


I've Already Laid in the Flame

by thehyacinthgirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Magic, F/M, Magical Accidents, Not Beta Read, Peter Hale Feels, Peter-centric, Resurrection, kid fic (kinda)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehyacinthgirl/pseuds/thehyacinthgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A coven of witches accidentally resurrect Peter's dead wife and child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And pray the dead will return

Peter's just about fed up with this chanting. The incantation that the witches were singing in their monotone voices was vibrating throughout the room, and up the stairs were the pack was closing in. Peter was at the basement door first, with Derek at his back. The rest were coming through the backyard to the back door. It was hard to picture a coven living here, in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Beacon Hills, in a picturesque gated community with pretty little trees lining the streets, and pearly white mailboxes. The house was a two story Victorian with a rose garden out front. During surveillance, Scott told them he even saw one of the witches actually baking a pie through the window.. not even a poison pie, but an honest to goodness dutch apple pie. Peter felt a bit cheated at the sad display, even though everything points to the coven having pretty hefty power. That would be why Peter wasn't in the basement, ripping through the ritual, instead of waiting for the whole pack to go down together.

It had been a nice two months before this, with the supernaturals drawn to the Nementon actually behaving themselves. With the exception of a few rounds of slightly dangerous pranks from the local faeries, which Stiles stopped with a truce and a slightly crazy prank back, it had been quiet. The pack was enjoying the time to just be teenagers, and have their weekly bonding nights. Then they found a couple mutilated deer in the woods, half rotted with symbols of Osiris in their fleshy hide. They could smell the coven through the town, like sulfur, berries and electricity. But until tonight, they didn't actually know what they looked like.

As they came down the stairs, they had claws and fangs ready, with the humans in the back with their own weapons (Allison with her bow, Stiles with his bat, and Lydia with vials of vicious strong potions that Stiles and Deaton had concocted.) The house may have looked like Betty Crocker's home, with the flowery curtains, matching tablecloths, and spotless hardwood floors, the basement looked exactly as Peter expected. The bare concrete was covered in chalk writing, and thin lines of animal blood forming a circle. Five hooded figures surrounded the circle, standing on an altar cloth with a few bowls on it. A harsh thick incense smoked in one bowl, while another held holy water. An athame was laid down between the bowls. The four on the edges had their heads down, with bright white candles burning on their open palms. The wax was dripping down their hands but they kept lightly chanting.

_Osire,_  
_custos portæ,_  
_magistro fatum,_  
_audi nos!_

The head witch had her hood, slightly off her forehead, as her head was tilted up. She had loose waves of blonde hair around her face, and looked just a bit older than Peter himself. Her hands cradled a bowl of deer blood straight out from her chest, as she sang in a monotone voice. The pack came around the circle to stop the ritual, only to find mountain ash stopped them from moving closer. Allison came forward to swipe a foot at the circle, but one of the witches on the side moved her hand, pushing Allison into the concrete walls, and holding her there, never breaking her chanting or eye contact with the athame. Stiles and Lydia couldn't move from their spots.

Mi Helumnay, Peenay,  
Venturum felicem,  
scire vestram vocationem Venturum oh pium.  
Ulcer humilis gratitudo pro oblationem tuam  
in mortem dare vitam,  
alis habeas faciles ad regnum.

Peter felt an uneasiness in his stomach, as the athame began to shake and spin slightly. Lydia was typing into her phone, glancing between it and the athame that was gaining speed.

"The chanting.. I think they are trying to bring the God of the Dead to them. For power, maybe." Lydia called out to the pack.

"How do we stop it?" Scott yelled back. Lydia shook her head.

"I don't know."

The pack could only watch as the head witch dipped her fingers in the bowl of blood, and smeared a long line down her forehead and mouth. The athame began to smoke, and the room filled. Peter, Derek and Scott shared a look, and then lunged themselves at the edge of the circle with all their might. It was like hitting a brick wall, and Peter could feel blood spurt from his nose from the pressure. It healed quickly, but a drop of his blood landed in the holy water. He furrowed his brow as he started to hear screaming. Familiar screaming. The athame went from smoke to flame, and twirled up from the floor like a small tornado. The witches gasped, and the head witch broke the chant.

"No, this isn't right!" She screamed, angrily. The flames burst out, blinding the room for a few seconds, and collapsed back into itself. Peter took his arm down where he was shielding his eyes, and seeing what the flames revealed, his jaw dropped.

Crouched on the floor, there were a heavily pregnant woman, clutching a small child to her chest, and they were both screaming as the flames died around them. The ashes fell, and they stopped screaming when they realized the flames were no longer burning them. The woman wiped a lock of dark brown hair off her face, and looked around. Her eyes stopped on Peter, and widened with recognition. The child peeked his head out of the woman's arms, and follows her gaze. When he sees Peter, he gasps.

"Daddy!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned to start posting my Stiles/Peter prompts, but then I was thinking about Peter before the fire and him being married/a dad. So I resurrected his family to see how that goes. Not sure how long this will be, it's unbetaed, and I will update at some point at least once a week I'm hoping. 
> 
> Titles are from Bright Eyes' "Smoke without Fire".
> 
> The Head Witch is chanting:  
> Adoni, Helumnay, Peenay,  
> come forward blessed one,  
> know your calling  
> come forward oh blessed one.
> 
> Accept our humble gratitude  
> for your offering  
> in death you give life,  
> may you find wings to the kingdom.
> 
> The other witches are chanting:  
> Osiris,  
> keeper of the gate,  
> master of all fate,  
> hear us!


	2. And dream of smoke without fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter may be OC kinda.. I decided by this point Derek and the pack had pretty much accepted him back into the pack and he is pretty open with Derek and Cora, at least. I've got this outlined to five chapters, hopefully updating at least once a week. 
> 
> I know the chapters are short but I can't make myself compose long chapters since I usually have my toddler and infant underfoot while I'm working on this. Unbetaed, by the way, so any comments or suggestions are welcome! :)

Everyone was frozen, as if the world stood still. The pack looked to each other, confused, except for Derek who understood the gravity of the witches' mistake. Peter could feel his wolf deep inside, pacing, begging to go to it's mate and cub to make sure they were real. Peter's mind fought back. He wouldn't allow himself to believe they were here. They were alive. They couldn't be. That word was haunting him. **_Daddy._** He wouldn't allow that wound to open up again. He lost so much that day fire took his world away, there was no going back.   
  
"What did you do?" Derek growled at the head witch. Allison had been freed from the hold, and she swiped across the mountain ash and the pack gathered the coven while they were dazed from the magic. The head witch shook her head.   
  
"This wasn't supposed to happen." She pointed at Peter. "His blood became the sacrifice instead of the deer blood we were using."   
  
"Send them back." Peter murmured loud enough for them all to hear in the quiet settled in the basement. Allison gasped slightly, and Lydia tsked a bit. Peter was still watching his mate. He saw sadness and pain flash in her eyes before she masked it, with a slight frown.   
  
"Peter - you can't.." Scott started.   
  
"No." Her voice was like a bell ringing in an abandoned church, and it tore through Peter. He never thought he would hear it again. Everyone turned to her. "Peter's right. We died and we shouldn't have been brought back." She turned her face into her son's hair, kissing the top of his head. The boy looked like he wanted to get out of her arms to reach Peter, but her hand on his shoulder was keeping him in place.   
  
"We barely had enough power to even bring them here, much less return them. Feel free to kill them and send them back yourselves, though." The witch remarked, and while Derek was distracted, eyebrows furrowed while he decided what to say to Peter or the sudden appearance of his long lost aunt and cousin, she smashed a vial in her hand that hadn't been there a minute ago. A thick smoke shot out and she had vanished. The other witches huffed and one started crying at being abandoned.   
  
"Well, let's take these other witches to Chris, he can get them out of town." Scott proposed before turning to the witches. His eyes shone red. "You will not enter this territory or town again. Is that understood?" The witches hastily shook their heads, and their fear was sharp in the room. "Let's go back to the loft, and figure out what we can do." Peter knew Scott was trying to find the more neutral ground. The pack had mostly spent their time at the remodeled Hale house since Derek had renovated it as a pack house with rooms for each member, even though they were all still living with their parents with the exception of Isaac. He lived at the pack house full time, with Derek as his guardian. It was best they didn't go back to the pack house, where they had died.   
  
  
After a stressful car ride and no words spoken, after his mate had whispered something to their son that even he couldn't hear, and he didn't ask for Peter anymore, Peter went directly to the bathroom. Most of the pack had went to the pack house at Scott's request, leaving Derek, Peter, Lydia, Scott and Stiles to sort it out. Malia wanted to stay to meet her half brother but Stiles knew she had no filter, and it was probably best to hold off on that reunion. Peter turned the faucet on and splashed water on his face. He gripped the sink hard enough to hear a slight creaking of the marble-top. The door opened and Derek slid in. Peter could hear the heartbeats in the living room and the slight murmuring of Scott talking, and Lydia pulling packages of food out of the pantry to feed them.   
  
"I know this is hard. It's hard for me to see them, so I can't even imagine how this is for you. But you can't act like they aren't real." Derek leaned against the sink, and touched his hand to the back of Peter's neck to help comfort him. It had taken time after Peter's rampage, and coming back from the dead, but eventually they got to a good place where Peter was pack, and Derek seemed to open up to him more. Peter had been slowly letting his walls down around his nephew, and Cora.   
  
"That's your wife. Your son. They are just as lost about this as you are. We need to find a way to help them adjust back to being here in the pack, alive. You are only hurting them by ignoring them." Derek said. Peter slowly loosened his grip on the sink. He took a few breaths to keep control of his emotions, which weren't as locked down as he liked.   
  
"I can't see them as they were. All I can see is them burning again. Hearing their screams. The witches may not have been able to take them back but I can't.. I can't get attached and them going back anyway." Peter confessed.   
  
"And what if they stay but you drive them away?" Derek countered. He patted Peter on the back and then went back out the door. Peter listened to the heartbeats, and picked out his wife's. It was steady, and comforting, her voice slightly off with sadness as she talked with Scott. His son's heartbeat like a wild rabbit, he could hear Stiles showing him something and feel his excitement. He heard the heartbeat of his unborn child within her belly, and he cut off a slight whine as he remembered hearing it for the first time ten years ago when they were laying in bed, with his head in her lap.   
  
Once he got himself together, and a slight inner fight, he decided Derek was right. He couldn't let this chance to be with his family again, no matter how short and fleeting it may be. He turned the handle and walked out into the loft, his eyes on his wife. 

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is [Trope Queen](http://tropequeen.tumblr.com).


End file.
